


a match meets an oil spill

by irlgansey



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Car rides, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 15:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6709831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlgansey/pseuds/irlgansey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan speeds down the interstate, “burning rubber”, as Gansey would say. Adam can see the nighttime silhouette of the Blue Ridge mountains, the stars little pinpricks of light behind the ridges. Ronan’s eyes are watching the road as if nobody else is in the car with him. Adam notices his chapped lips, and licks his own peeling ones. He’s tired of Ronan’s shitty music taste, so he twists the radio dial, landing on a channel playing a smooth R&B song. Adam hasn’t heard much music in his life besides what he hears on Boyd’s radio at the garage, but he likes this song. It makes him think of another life, one spent wearing leather and expensive watches like the one Ronan sports carelessly on his wrist. Adam wonders what it’s like to be someone like Ronan, someone born into money, born into magic, to have parents like Aurora and Niall Lynch. He imagines not having to bargain away your autonomy for a chance at a better life. He sighs while looking out the window, and Adam catches Ronan glance at him out of the corner of his eye. Adam’s fingers itch to touch.<br/>(no trk spoilers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	a match meets an oil spill

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first trc fic! there aren't any trk spoilers in here bc i wrote most of it before trk came out, but i'm publishing it to celebrate trk! hope you guys enjoy it :)

Adam no longer keeps track of the days since he broke up with Blue. He isn’t quite sure why, but his heart doesn’t ache sharply whenever he sees her. Sure, Blue’s cute, but Adam no longer wants to wrap his arms around her waist or lean down to kiss her. Adam can’t remember when it stopped happening either. It’s a strange phenomenon. 

Adam sits on his mattress in his shabby attic apartment, wearing a threadbare sweater and sweatpants, looking  at his most recent spread of tarot cards. The afternoon light filters through the one window in the apartment, illuminating the tarot spread. The Lovers, Two of Chalices, Knight of Chalices, The Empress, the spread reads, and Adam snorts softly. From what he can remember from Persephone’s tarot lessons, the Empress promises receiving lavish rewards, and of course, the Lovers promises romance. Adam is confused by both cards; he knows that none of his three jobs, or even Aglionby, are going to offer him anything extravagant. Plus, Adam knows he’s over Blue. Yet the cards remain the same. Adam can’t remember a time when Cabeswater was wrong about a tarot spread, but Adam knows none of this is going to happen. At least, Adam thinks he knows. However, he shoves any doubt to the back of his mind. 

Adam’s back aches from sleeping on his shitty mattress. He cracks his neck, and how much it pops scares him. Under his breath, he curses his shitty mattress. Adam knows he doesn’t get enough sleep, but he figures it’s for a good cause. It’s not like he can work his ass off for an Aglionby scholarship and get 8 hours of sleep at the same time. He’s lucky to get 4 hours of sleep, and he usually only gets 2-3 hours. Adam knows not to tell Gansey; he’d only worry more. 

Gansey worries in plain sight; he offers Adam money and things he knows Adam won’t take. But Gansey hopes that he’ll take them anyway; Gansey hopes aloud. 

Ronan, on the other hand. Adam inhales sharply. Ronan, he thinks. Ronan. Ronan, well, Ronan worries in ways that Adam wouldn’t notice if he were anyone else. Adam only notices the little things that Ronan does because he’s trained his eyes to catch wrong answers bubbled in on scantron sheets. He notices the moments when Ronan’s eyes linger on Adam’s face for just a second too long, notices when Ronan’s hands brush his and Ronan’s cheeks acquire a very slight blush. Adam says nothing about these moments.

Adam knows that Ronan’s not straight anyways. On excursions with Gansey, Noah, and Blue, Adam’s seen Ronan checking out attractive male cashiers and staring longer than Gansey at advertisements with male models. Despite his raising, Adam doesn’t really mind Ronan’s sexuality. He figures as long as Ronan is content with who he is, everything’s alright in that department. 

Adam exhales slowly. His heart aches a little bit, and he’s not sure why. With a weight in his chest, he lies down on the mattress, the tarot cards spread at his feet. He’s still frustrated that he doesn’t understand what the cards mean. He acknowledges the fact that okay, maybe there could be some romance in his life, but he can’t really think of anyone with whom he’d like to be romantic with. Adam definitely knows that he’s over Blue, and that whatever strange feelings he once had for Gansey have faded away. Noah’s a ghost, so that only leaves Ronan. 

Adam’s surprised that his first thought is that he wouldn’t mind being romantic with Ronan. What would Ronan even be like romantically? Maybe he’d bite Adam’s lip while they kiss. Adam can imagine Ronan’s lips smiling against his, and surprisingly, it doesn’t make him flinch, the way that thinking about boys that way used to. 

The orange light from the sunset is just beginning to shine upon the apartment’s splintery floor when Adam hears someone banging on his door. 

“Parrish! Open up!” shouts Ronan from the other side of the door.

Adam sighs, then stands up and walks to the door. 

Adam opens the door, and there is Ronan’s chiseled face, only a few inches away from his. His mouth is pulled into a Cheshire Cat’s grin, and Adam thinks that a shark’s teeth would suit Ronan better. The evening light falls across his face in a way that accentuates Ronan’s sculpted cheekbones, and his light brown skin looks golden in the light. 

Adam instinctively looks down at the door frame. 

“Hey Parrish, my eyes are up here,” Ronan cracks. Adam looks up to Ronan’s face and smirks at his shit-eating grin. 

“What do you want, Lynch?”

Adam can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Ronan’s grin. 

“Wanna go for a drive, Parrish?”

Adam can’t find it in himself to say no. 

\---

The two of them are six miles away from the vandalized Henriette entrance sign when Ronan turns on the BMW’s radio to play some shitty electronic music. Adam’s seated in the passenger’s seat, looking out the window. He sees car lights flash by as the BMW speeds by them in the carpool lane. The car smells like worn leather and expensive cologne, and Adam runs his fingers along the seam of his seat. 

Adam’s nervous, and he doesn’t quite know why. His heartbeat is rapid, and he can’t get the ache in chest to disappear no matter how long he stares out the window. He sits up in his seat, and turns to look at Ronan. His body is languid and casual, but his sharp jaw is clenched as he stares out onto the road ahead. The atmosphere in the car is heavy; Adam can practically feel it weighing on him as the car stereo pumps out more harsh electronica. Adam’s observant enough to know that Ronan’s avoiding something, but Adam knows that Ronan’s not dumb enough to ask the person he’s potentially avoiding to sit less than a foot away from him for dozens of miles. 

The artificial lighting only serves to enhance Ronan’s razor-sharp cheekbones, and Adam can’t help but fix his attention on how Ronan’s steel blue eyes are practically glaring at the interstate. Adam’s heartbeat picks up, and he looks back out the window.

\----

Thirty miles away from Henrietta, Ronan and Adam are at inside a gas station snack market. Adam figures it’s going to be a long trip, and they might as well have some snacks. Ronan grabs a bag of Cheeto Puffs, and Adam tells him that the orange residue is going to ruin his all-black emo look. Ronan just snorts at him. All Adam gets is a small can of Sprite, and he pays for it with his own money. Ronan then proceeds to buy a shit ton of junk food. As the two of them leave to go to the car, Adam gives Ronan a suspicious look. 

“Why’d you get so much food, Lynch? How long are we even going to be driving anyway?” Adam jokes. He watches Ronan’s full lips while waiting for a response. 

“No questions, Parrish. My road trip, my rules. And to come back at your shitty-ass burn that you tried out back in the snack market, I’m still gonna look hot as fuck with Cheeto dust all over me,” Ronan bites back. His shit-eating grin is back again, and Adam can’t stop staring at how Ronan still looks like an untouchable marble statue carved by Michelangelo himself under the fluorescent gas station lights. 

Ronan cocks his head towards his car, and clicks his teeth faintly. 

“Let’s go Parrish.”

They both walk to Ronan’s BMW, and put all of their snacks in the leg room area in front of Adam’s seat. Maybe the snacks are Adam’s lavish rewards that the Empress promised him. He figures it’s a decent prophecy, and that he can deal with few bags of junk food. It’s more than he had for lunch, anyway. 

Ronan clears his throat. 

“Parrish, why the fuck do you look worried? You don’t have work or school tomorrow, and we’re on a fucking road trip. Those things are supposed to be fun. Lighten up a little,” he drops, with a deadbeat tone. 

Adam just laughs, a cynical expression on his face. Ronan knows he’s got plenty to worry about, whether it’s grades, money, or the rent. Ronan definitely knows he worries about the rent. 

“Lynch, you’re really asking me that question,” Adam responds, a smirk on his face.

Saying “Lynch” feels strange for some reason, and Adam isn’t quite sure why. It feels too impersonal, like something any Aglionby boy could shout at Ronan before calling him a bastard. Adam doesn’t know what’s changed. Gansey, Blue, and Noah easily call him “Lynch” without hesitation, but Adam’s tongue feels foreign to him as the word rolls out of his lips. 

Adam looks back at Ronan, who is currently staring at the steering wheel while he drums his hands on the top. It’s a common Ronan gesture of impatience, and Adam can tell that he’s itching to slam his foot on the gas pedal. 

“Let’s get out of here,” snarls Ronan as the BMW’s tires screech out of the parking lot. 

\--

Ronan speeds down the interstate, “burning rubber”, as Gansey would say. Adam can see the nighttime silhouette of the Blue Ridge mountains, the stars little pinpricks of light behind the ridges. Ronan’s eyes are watching the road as if nobody else is in the car with him. Adam notices his chapped lips, and licks his own peeling ones. He’s tired of Ronan’s shitty music taste, so he twists the radio dial, landing on a channel playing a smooth R&B song. Adam hasn’t heard much music in his life besides what he hears on Boyd’s radio at the garage, but he likes this song. It makes him think of another life, one spent wearing leather and expensive watches like the one Ronan sports carelessly on his wrist. Adam wonders what it’s like to be someone like Ronan, someone born into money, born into magic, to have parents like Aurora and Niall Lynch. He imagines not having to bargain away your autonomy for a chance at a better life. He sighs while looking out the window, and Adam catches Ronan glance at him out of the corner of his eye. Adam’s fingers itch to touch.

“Stop the car.” Adam deadpans.

“What? Parrish, you’re fucking smart enough to know that we’re on the interstate. There’s not even any truck stops. Besides, truck stops are sketchy as hell anyway.”

“Ronan, I said ‘stop the car’.”

“Fine, Princess Parrish.”

Adam looks away from Ronan, and sees and exit a few dozen feet ahead. 

“Go onto that exit. That should get us off the freeway.”

“As you wish, Buttercup.”

The BMW’s tires screech as Ronan pulls into the exit lane. After a few miles, the road turns from asphalt to a dirt road, and for a second Adam is reminded of the path to the trailer park. Ronan’s voice snaps him out of it. 

“Yo, Parrish, there’s a shoulder over there I could pull us on to for whatever weird shit you wanted to stop the car for.” 

Adam shivers. 

Ronan pulls the car over.

The shoulder is right next to what appears to be a limestone cliff with a top covered in pine trees. Adam hears voices quietly whisper. He hears “Greywaren” and “Magician” in between a murmured language he doesn’t understand.  Adam wonders if Ronan still has his magic puzzle box. 

The BMW pulls over into the shoulder, and screeches to a halt. Adam grabs a bag of barbecue Lays and gets out of the car. He leans on the side of the BMW and looks up at the stars, and the sky is surprisingly clear. Adam can hear owls hooting in his good ear. Adam also hears a thud on the car next to his body. 

“So this is what you dragged me off the freeway for, huh, Parrish?

Adam sighs. He doesn’t feel agitated like the old Adam Parrish would, wary of Ronan Lynch and his back talk. Instead, Adam feels content, and slightly unreal. How did he, a boy from a trailer park on Antebellum road, end up leaning on a BMW worth more than his parents’ trailer with a boy as magical as Ronan Lynch? Gansey, of course. It all comes back to Gansey, Adam supposes. Adam meeting Ronan, Noah, and Blue. Adam bargaining with Cabeswater.  Adam getting out of the trailer park. Adam being taught by Persephone. Adam next to Ronan on a crisp spring night. Adam supposes the latter statement was because of Ronan, but meeting Ronan was because of Gansey. 

Adam makes sure to thank Gansey later. 

“Yeah, this is it,” Adam whispers to Ronan as he rolls over onto Ronan’s chest. 

Ronan stares into Adam’s eyes, Ronan’s eyes afraid and hopeful. Adam can feel his heart beating like a hummingbird. 

Adam leans down. 

Adam’s lips are chapped with a scab in the middle, but Ronan’s are soft and lush. To Adam, they somehow taste like strawberries. 

Adam kisses Ronan just a bit harder, then breaks the kiss to whisper in Ronan’s ear, 

“What kind of Lipsmackers have you been using, Lynch?”

Ronan kisses the smug grin off of Adam’s face. 

  
  



End file.
